


Snippets

by SlvrRv



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Growing Up, I wrote this for myself, Im glad that the full page index is honest, Not Beta Read, Storytelling, ah what to tag, i don’t actually know, of an experience, sorry if its bad, very short
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-01-16 17:48:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21275231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlvrRv/pseuds/SlvrRv
Summary: Just a compilation of small instances that a certain girl experienced in her life.





	1. A Phrase

**Author's Note:**

> This work is written for venting, may be confusing, so I’ll try to explain the context on every chapter.
> 
> I have a.. problem about figuring out feelings. Sometimes I just don’t know why I feel a certain way, so this work is made so I could go back to it and maybe finally understand why I did feel a certain way(?)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An evolution of a phrase.

“I want to die.”

That phrase.. is empty, in your opinion. It doesn’t really hold any meaning, at least when you say it to yourself. _ (Though there are some instances where you do mean it, but you think no one should know about that.)_ No, you never told someone to die, that’s outrageous. You know how some people could react badly to that, and it’ll be your fault later.

But somehow, it’s something.. you always say nowadays. It’s sort of like a habit, like a key to keep your head in line. Like a coping mechanism.

_I want to die_

You’re quite sure that if others hear you say that they’ll be concerned, some might worry. Sometimes, it’ll annoy you because _No, you’re not depressed and no, you are not suicidal. I am okay and just feeling a little bit down right now_, You think.

But that is where you don’t understand. 

Death isn’t.. death isn’t a taboo thing, you think. It’s normal, a part of nature itself. So why do people avoid the topic? People never talk freely about it, none that you know of do, up to now. Not that you like to talk about it and want to talk about it the whole time, geez. It’s just, sometimes there are some moments where it feels appropriate to raise the topic.

Oh right. If there are some time where it would be appropriate to talk about it, then there would also be a time where it wouldn’t be. Maybe_ that’s _why, you mentally facepalmed yourself.

_(She did let it slip though, one time. And that brought a huge reaction out of someone, so you vow to never let it slip out again.)_

_Don’t worry, it’s not like I’ll really kill myself when I say that. I’m too scared of the pain after all._

Ah.

Maybe it’s because you haven’t experience losing someone you know.

No, that’s not true. That’s not true at all. You do have lost someone you know, but not someone you care about.. yet.

You wonder how bad your heart will break when that happens. 

“I just hope that I’ll be the first one to die.”

...

Huh.

Maybe it is a little vulgar? You mean, almost everything connected to death is bad. Wait, no. Bad isn’t the word. Hmm, a little bit.. negative, yeah. 

Maybe you should change the phrase a little bit. Yeah, that’s.. that’s fine, you guess. You could work on it.

So the next time you mess up and feel like you’re a failure and wanting to disappear, you just sigh while wearing a cynical expression on your face,

_“I want to sleep forever.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one.. I don’t really have a story behind it. It’s just a part of my thoughts when I’m thinking too much haha.


	2. Crisis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some thoughts on New Years Eve.

The moment between tomorrow and today is..  
It’s not— it’s not phenomenal, you think. It’s the same as any other time, the sun goes down and the moon rises up once again.

Yet..

maybe most people feel like it’s something different. Something.. special.

(you don’t, though.)

Ugh, if only those egyptian priests back in the day didn’t find out that one year equals to 365 days and 6 hours

then maybe tomorrow at midnight everything would be the same as any other day.

(Oh yeah, it would greatly help with the decrease in pollution because fireworks, guys. People should watch the video about what fireworks look like in the day and maybe THEN they would realize and understand the true extent of using those atrocious tool for entertainment because holy sh- that is a lot of smoke.)

—

ugh.

It’s like— like letting something go. Maybe something like, a restart button? A new beginning or something..

It’s like.. saying goodbye, in a way. Usually goodbyes are used in a parting. A separation. And those are usually connected to sad stuff, right?

Those people who made tomorrow at midnight special, how dare they.

How dare they make it seem like it’s something special. How dare they make it seem like a parting. How dare they make it seem like something sad. 

It shouldn’t have been a big deal because it is just a day, same as any other day. But because of some alterations the way you see it has changed, and it becomes something special while in reality it’s not that big of a deal.

...

I’m rambling aren’t I.

—

I don’t want to sleep  
Because sleep is a natural time machine

But my eyes are hurt from seeing

I wish I could see without opening my eyes.

(Or maybe the true reason is because you feel guilty when you do.)

..  
I feel like I don’t deserve to rest.

I feel really bad when I’m resting (which means you’re doing nothing which means nothing is in progress and you’ll never get that thing done on time and you’ll fail horribly and oh how are you suppose to live with that g u i l t—)

I’m sorry, I’ll stop now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which you have seriously effed up your sleeping schedule, hooray.


	3. Connect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A connection bestowed upon

Growing up, I don’t really know how to properly express my feelings. No one ever taught me, and I also don’t know if there are people who teach it either. 

I think I just learned to repress it overtime. With a mom who only sees the negative aspect of everything, and a dad who is too caught up in their beliefs.. how could I? Not to mention everything I tell dad, mom would know too, it works both ways.

And sometimes they share them with their close friends and other family members like my aunts or cousins.

I hate it.

It’s like having no privacy at all.

Sometimes the things I do tell my parents mostly will be turned against me. It’s like the problem exists because I was not competent enough to prevent it from happening. 

And not only me, sister is also affected. And maybe because of all of this, we cannot open up to each other either (and it’s awkward doing so, too..)

Maybe that’s why I can never tell anyone what and how I truly feel.

Everytime I did tell a friend I quite trust I would feel guilty and regret and insecure about doing it and wished I didn’t do that and _why were you not strong enough to endure it—_

_What if they’re disturbed with this information?_

_What if they changed their views of me negatively?_

_What if they hate me now?_

_What if they spread the info to other people?_

_It’ll be a weakness, a flaw they could exploit._

_But on the other hand, there’s this aching feeling I have when it overwhelms me._

_ _It’s unfair._ _

_ _It’s so unfair that I feel suffocated when I don’t let them out and immediately feel guilty when I do tell someone about it._ _

_ _I hate feeling like that_ _


	4. Parrot me, will you?

I’ve just recently realized that I don’t really speak honestly.

No, not really lying, I guess? More like.. I would only say things that I think will be appropriate for others to hear. I found myself frequently thinking, “Is this reply socially acceptable? Will it sound weird? Is it okay if I say this?” everytime I talk to someone. 

Maybe some of you will think that it must’ve been exhausting, having to do that everytime I have a conversation with other people, but to me it’s automatic, you know? I.. think I’m used to it.

Those replies I said, it’s all the things I’ve heard people around me saying. I learn from my experience talking or hearing others’ conversation. 

So maybe that’s why sometimes I don’t know what to say to someone if they talk to me about something I’ve never heard of because I’ve never heard a reply for it before. I feel really bad when that happens, because _why can’t you reply like a normal person would, you piece of—_

It makes me think that maybe I’m just an imposter. I don’t know. The ‘real’ me probably has nothing to say, anyway. I think she is too dumb to speak for herself.

Sometimes I do have opinions though. I only let them out if someone who asks me is an important person (to me), but that rarely happens too.

Then there is this ‘freedom of speech’ thing. I think I can’t do that, yet. I don’t even know what to say. 

I’m such a plagiator, an imposter, a facade, such a copycat, a fabrication, an empty shell filled with others’ things. 

_How can you be a creator if you can’t create something original? All you do is copy others. You think that is art?_

—

People out there say that this is what’s called to be inspired by others. That maybe, just maybe, I’m not as a fake human I think I am. 

I don’t understand a lot of things. I take a long time to think if someone asks an opinion about something to me. _(Maybe that’s why you just take others’ reply, because you feel so bad you take too long to just make a simple reply if you do try to answer according to what you really think—) _

I think I feel so sorry to them. For my special people who genuinely ask me for opinions because maybe some of them aren’t my honest ones, because I was too busy thinking about my own stupid guilt about not answering fast enough, eventhough I know people who care about me don’t mind me taking a time to think things through (do they care about me, though? I don’t know, I’m not sure, really.) it feels so meaningless. I feel so meaningless.

It’s so bad that sometimes I wonder if my goals, hopes and dreams, are mine or just others’.

_   
_

‘Is this really what I want, not what others’ want?’

I wonder how much of ‘me’ is me.

_I don’t even know who I am anymore. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am but a fake


	5. Once upon a dream, I..

A train of thought flashed inside her mind, too fast to comprehend. It’s like you’re thinking of something but the thought doesn’t form completely solid, she understands it nevertheless.

“I don’t even know what the problem is,” she said. Eyelids closed, bitterness visible in her tone. 

“The thing is–,” she breathed out a sigh, “that I feel like, there is something like a burning spirit fighting relentlessly inside my heart, yet I don’t _know_ why.”

A pause.

“I don’t— I just don’t understand _why_ won’t I just accept defeat, just accept my fate.”

_Because you knew, you wouldn’t be happy. _

She heaves out a sigh.

Why do things have to be complicated?

“Everytime tears prickle my eyes, they immediately stop half away because the feelings inside my heart prevented it from forming completely,” she rubbed her eyes with both of her hands. 

She’s _so_ tired. She just wants to rest. 

“It’s like its saying that this situation is not worth crying for, that I cannot cry over it,” She looks down to her hands, “I am not justified enough.”

Jealousy blooms inside her heart when she saw other children who were supported by their parents. But she knew, it’s wrong to be jealous. It is her duty to do what her parents want her to do, right? Since she has to pay them back for bringing her to the world and raising her so far. 

_But she didn’t want to be born, so why? Why should she have to do this? Why—_

_—I don’t want this._

“I’ll live, and die, as something I don’t want to be, sacrificing what I like _(is it truly something I like, though? Isn’t it just a hobby? Because life generally will be harder if I do pursue it? Will it ever be enough? That’s why it’s not justified enough, is it? Because I am the one who isn’t good enou–)_,’ she snaps out of it.

“Stop,” she blinks away her minuscule tears and thoughts, once again tucking the problem away to the back of her mind.

_There’s no time to be sad._

She drifts asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> So this chapter is about a girl who is torn between chasing her dreams or obeying her parents demands. It stresses her so much, yet she doesn’t know how to ask for help. So she is at the verge of breaking down.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! English is not my first language so sorry for some grammatical errors..


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